1. |
Split, Split, Split
02:12
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Split, split, split the tree stump with the
Axe and spoon the worms that spook the
Stump and worms, and worms, and worms that
Fed the grass will feast and dance, they
Will be the mystery and the misery of a wood
Split, split, split you species from the ancient
One and learn to burn and learn to
Fission and slaves, and slaves that fed the
Men will sign the fate of your brain, they
Will be the mystery and the misery of a hood
Lairs inspected by wild men will finally be my unintended skyscrapers
And our everlasting rhythm will finally be my nonsense
Split, split, split your misery in a dirty
Club and see the stars and watch the
Scars and cut, and cut the lysergic
Tie to the mock battle you call life, it
Will be the mystery and the misery of a hood
Split, split, split yourselves from the poor and the
Miser one who deserves your sympathy.
Take it, assemble it, manipulate it but change your knowledge for a
Gold stuff, gold made totem that
Will be the mystery and the misery of a wood
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2. |
Dadaistic Vision
04:00
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Your dadaistic vision of the world is only a scandal
Of your missed religion you don’t wanna know
Your pencil case hates that pen that you won’t fix
Oh might you wanna do those tricks?
Your dadaistic vision is the fake sensation of your mind
Contested your religion when it was only a fail
Delusions and mistakes are burning away
And might you wanna walk this rail?
RIT
Mind, she’s away from her mistakes and the best that I do is controlling me
Try to see everything when the sea burned with the sun over me
Find all the reasons of my pride and the cause of my disease is love my side
Cry with sorrow streets and the horizon sparkles under me
Your dadaistic vision makes you undervalued
Pain on your blames and rats with your pets
You and yourself found that based picks
But might you wanna crumble your tricks?
Your dadaistic vision scratch the flattery and “Good luck!”
The art your pleasure stress a rotten pray
Candles in the sky as lights that you kill
And might you wanna wait for years?
RIT
What’s that mystery? Where’s your nightmare?
Can’t control your feeling and the wild beast that is in you
Heartbeat’s crumbling in you, heartbeat’s crumbling in you
Heartbeat’s crumbling in you and you’re not the only ones who know
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3. |
Eyeliddles
03:10
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Quiet your eyes
Burning tides on the low side
G e n e r ation, ebrious push your eyelid
In the hour of your warm sight, all around is getting static
Take your bicycle and ride, the one who cross your eye will lay there
It’s a fire of burning eyesore, the one across your eye-shot
RIT
Sweet eyeliddles you just blink
G e n e r ation, there’s a war push your eyelid
In the hour of your war sight, all around is getting hysteric
RIT
Karmal revolution
'S got t-shirts and shapes and throats
Maybe the institution
Gives t-shirts and shapes and throats to you
RIT
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4. |
Germ
03:40
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I'm gone in a most peculiar birthplace
where i can watch everything - keep the lid on me
I can't help ask myself where to get the term
I've torn this trend again
away from the stain
My nostrils hurt at every breath i take
Blazing my expectations
While I'm waiting for you there
The dumb pleased the sad man to give him an advice
but both have died
I've torn this trend again
away from the stain
of this kind of bummer
that won't let You be penitent
I just want this lilting tedium, this lilting tedium
Exasperated
I'm going to fast licking the trail
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5. |
Missolonghi
04:05
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Mr. Lord Byron is coming to see his way
Where the cruel spanish men will not let their peace free
Oh, can you see what the world is going to be? - Now here -
Under your waterfall, where your world used to be your home
The water is falling down from the sky, your pride is as your wife
And you don’t feel the same although train is on your way
And you don’t feel the same if the revolution kills the oppressor
RIT
Now Missolonghi is your home
George Gordon Byron wrote on the paper and all the words were naked
Corrupted England was your fatherland and your father was mad
So you said my life is terrible, I will fight for Greece in her rebellion
RIT
All the warriors are ready, please don’t touch our ladies
Go away from my state, go away from my reign
Mr. Lord Byron on the grass, your eyes are seeing the death
How many times you wanted to fight for your life?
RIT
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6. |
Ransom
05:14
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We were walking, woods and mountains and the beasts
Were discovering a river gives time and still exists
It strangulates life
Got to float on the tide
We were walking, circulate the shapes of me
We’re discovering straightaway the sea we’ll swim
It smothers life
Got to try to flow
We were walking a girl stopped taping this scene
Was discovering the ransom of the time will be
A strangulation
A radical change of tune
We were laughing choking on life every bite
We were fighting for
A strangulation
A radical change of tune
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7. |
Solipsistic Feel
02:08
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You treat me like gold it’s a thrill beside
The coral in the jowl the Trinity, the God, the shy
The logic of an inspiration, the theory of a complot
Oh oh bye bye
I was driving through this countryside
The bubblegum in my mouth and those eyes
A plause for my silly trivial mind
Oh oh bye bye
Oh oh bye bye
The crow’s just in its minimal flight
The therapist is rolling on the crime
Of a new condition of life
Oh oh bye bye
Oh oh you’re not mine
Oh oh lie lie
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8. |
Last, Proximate End
03:59
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You go upon your railway to celebrate your agony when you paid
All your fogs and there is only a flurry, but you don’t care and you cast all your reasons
The cash-desk is in front of your eyes,
The market is next to the pub or was it far away?
From the street and the pavement it’s curving like your meltin-point
A protestant visitor is going to change his life and now is pruning his hair
The world has dead when love talked us and now
We’re all together in our
RIT
Last, proximate end track the toxic spirit in your land
And don’t feel what he said and screamed about plastic surgery
We’re running in marathon the street is full of night
Discussion on your life, the hell is in your sight
Were you an innocent and was your work right?
Words in your life are always like a sea that you can’t supervise
A suspicious character is running in this line
And your eyes are grey and alone in the night
RIT
Last, proximate end track the toxic spirit
And don’t feel what he said and scream about plastic surgery
Beautiful the world in your dreams, typhoon isn’t here
But is…
In your eyes, in your eyes, in your eyes
Are they filled up with night?
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9. |
Suicide Side
07:16
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Come here in occident.
Rape the steel drop us to some place with drugs.
Blow my feel in concern.
Stab my seal in front of me. Everyone cut off himself.
Ghost come and gain us. Strop the knife and stop us.
Beautiful concept, pain.
A shattered slap sitting sad, on my cheek dropped by
You and your arrival
Burn on the sidewalk.
Wander away from the atrium
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10. |
S.G.A.N.G.A.R.A.
01:29
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Shortly Gordon Attempt Not Groove Army's Reunion Again
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11. |
Clip 22
07:32
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Act as a villain, grudge between you and the strolling men
Life is poked in your wallet and you don’t want to strike your friend back again
This kind of bubonic inner slowdowns
Struggling, they’ve stolen it on the ground
Growing your row in the calling for spoiling some schooling crap
The rat is near the nest, the rat is near the nest
The rat is near the nest, the rat is near the nest
The rat is near the nest, the rat is near the
Fund the mind close to the stocks of all the patience of all you guarantors
Turn off your cigarette near the gas of senile dementia, senile dementia
Act as a villain, grudge between you and the strolling men
You can’t afford the massacre in your head
You can’t afford the massacre in your head
Sent by this silly mental lag
The massacre in your head, the massacre in your head
This is my spotless mind
Away from your guaranty
That’s trying to dictate
Its patronage on me
Calling my offspring
Is an hidden tyranny
Pardoned by the cunning
Forced by sadness
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Silence, Exile & Cunning Milano, Italy
"I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can, and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use... Silence, Exile, and Cunning." ... more
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